Therapist
by mooncheese1331
Summary: Spoilers through 3.14. "I could be your therapist, you know. I could listen to you talk about Rachel, just when it all started, and we could go from there. Obviously I can't stay here, but I can call you and stuff." Quinn nods. "I'd like that." Basically, what had happened if Quinn had said Rachel's name, not Santana's. Faberry Romance, side Brittana, and Quintana friendship.


Quinn's phone rings with the volume one might expect from a three year old that has been denied candy.

The entire Yale library turns to glare at her, and she blushes a ridiculous shade of red.

She grabs her bag and sprints to the soundproof rooms, meant for the music students to rehearse, but more commonly used for make out sessions. Quinn answers her phone without checking who it is, curling her lip in anticipation of a telemarketer.

"Quinn?"

The voice is soft, not at all like Santana.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asks, her brow furrowed. She leans into the corner of the square area, settling into the room. Her bag is where she dropped it at the front door.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm in the Library."

"Oh. Well, um, Quinn, we can't…we can't avoid talking about it."

Quinn almost hangs up right there, but instead she narrows her eyes. "What's the point, Santana? Why should we talk about it?"

She can hear Santana gnawing on her lip on the other end. "Quinn, contrary to most of our graduating class' belief, sex means something to me. I'm not mad, I'll openly admit that-well, you know who I was thinking about, or at least suspected it. I'm not mad about that. And I don't know if you feel the same way, but I feel like you should at least address what happened." She says, and Quinn squeezes her eyes shut.

"What do you want me to say, Santana? If you want me to admit something about myself or open up to you and tell you everything, think again." Quinn says, dipping her head in the corner.

Santana pauses. "I want to talk to you. Face to face."

"How, San, you're in New York."

"Actually…I'm sorta outside of the library. Please? Can we get lunch or something?"

Quinn sighs and rubs her temple. "Fine."

And then she hangs up. She sees a few frat boys ogling her and she gives them a glare before shoving her things together and leaving.

The staircase seems like a hundred miles, and the walk outside a million. Sure enough, Santana's waiting on a bench, chewing on her lip.

Quinn clears her throat and Santana looks up. Her eyes are a little bloodshot.

"San, have you been crying, smoking, or both?" Quinn asks sternly. Santana smiles.

"Allergies."

Quinn doesn't buy it, but allows Santana to lead her through campus. Once in her car, Quinn turns to Santana.

"I'm sorry." She whispers. "I shouldn't have done that with you, to you."

Santana offers a weak smile. "Oh, come on, you heard a few 'Britt's. I just wanna talk about how long this little crushy wushy has been going on."

Quinn glares, and Santana falters immediately. "Woah, Quinn, just being friendly. Put down the hackles."

Quinn relaxes into the seat and gives Santana the address of a restaurant.

"I don't have a crush on Rachel." Quinn says, tearing her eyes from Santana.

Santana narrows her eyes. "Look, Quinn, I see the way you look at her. I saw you that night you came to my house and didn't knock, and I'm so sorry for not opening the door. I practically held you as you almost cried when she got engaged. When we had sex, you pictured her to the point of actually saying her name, which, I just want to reiterate, I am not mad about at all."

Quinn sucks her lip in and feels moisture gather in her eyes. She blinks it back, but she knows Santana saw it.

Quinn lets her breath escape and looks at Santana, who's studying her face.

"Santana." Quinn whispers. "Please."

Santana blinks, and Quinn tries to speak again, but no words come out. She sort of just mouths "Please." a few more times until she begins to cry.

Santana parks in a spare spot and holds the blonde.

_That didn't take long._ She thinks.

Quinn finally stops and looks Santana directly in the eyes. "Please. I have never worked so hard to not feel something as I have on this. If my dad finds out-" she cuts herself off and Santana tucks a piece of hair behind Quinn's ear.

"You have to realize that what you're feeling isn't wrong." Santana says lowly. "You have to remember that with feelings its _better_, and that if your family can't accept that, then they never truly loved you in the first place. I know that sounds harsh, Q, but what you are experiencing is natural. It's something my parents used to have, something Rachel's parents have, something Brittany's parents have. It's different for everyone, and I believe the word is love. And your job, as a person, is to live the best life you can. And I can't picture a life without love, to be honest."

Quinn laughs. "You aren't going soft on me, are you? God, who told you that?"

Santana swallows thickly. "Brittany."

Quinn's smile falls and she touches Santana's shoulder. "Hey, you're right, okay? She's right. But I can't come to terms with it, San, I mean, I'm not gay."

Santana arches an eyebrow. "I said the same thing in eighth grade. Pro tip- keep your options open. Other than the drunken fling we had, have you ever even kissed a chick?"

Quinn shakes her head.

Santana leans back into the seat. "See? You have to explore a little bit. It doesn't make you slutty, or attention-seeking. Now, did we ever actually kiss?"

Quinn shakes her head slowly. Santana bites her lip.

"So you've never actually kissed someone that isn't a pubescent male?"

Quinn shakes her head again.

Santana sighs. "Dios mío."

Quinn smiles. "I know I like Rachel." She whispers. "Even if I don't know if I like women or not. But I can't come out, or talk about it to anyone, because I can't be without a dad or a family again and I can't risk it getting back to him."

"You know, it's not that hard." Santana spits. She's bitter, and her tone is strained.

Quinn nods. "And I am so sorry, Santana, that you had to go through that."

Santana nods.

The pair is quiet for a moment. Then, Santana breaks the silence.

"I could be your therapist, you know. I could listen to you talk about Rachel, just when it all started, and we could go from there. Obviously I can't stay here, but I can call you and stuff."

Quinn nods. "I'd like that."

* * *

**So this story is going to be told through flashbacks, mainly. It's a strong Quinntana friendship, but understand that it's Faberry centric and a side of Brittana. Santana will be a bit OOC, but that's simply because she has empathy for Quinn while she struggles with her sexuality. This is AU, obviously, because Faberry hasn't happened on the show yet. Please review, as it helps me write more.**

**~Hannah**


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